


then there was the bad weather.

by yvette_cigarette



Category: Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Bubble Bath, Daddy Kink, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Fluff and Smut, Hotel Sex, Idiots in Love, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22568185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yvette_cigarette/pseuds/yvette_cigarette
Summary: This one was just supposed to be Alex and Miles in a bath talking about Frankenstien, and now Alex is calling Miles Daddy. So.
Relationships: Miles Kane/Alex Turner
Comments: 10
Kudos: 68





	then there was the bad weather.

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a mess. ENJOY <3

Grey bruisings of clouds circle London like a thrilling prophecy, a prologue, a baseline of thunder rolling over them like groaning waves, rain painting the city in a light mist as the cold-front chills the air. 

Miles holds the curtain aside between his fingers, watching the perfect misery to the drooling gutters, the silver, smoggy tint to traffic, thinking distantly of the wounds renewing in barely healed roofs. 

Sentiments of his youth untouched by time are roused by the view; images arising of his and his Mother’s frantic races through the house, landing deep pots under drops of deft rain. 

He smiles softly as the memory folds itself back into the aft of his mind, rotating from his post behind the kitchen window at the prompt of the kettle clicking off.

Pouring the hot water into his and Alex’ mugs, Miles locates himself in a calm, sated, untroubled state. His smirk stays curled around his lips as he adds their sugar, setting the glass-jar aside before reaching into the hotel’s loud little fridge for the milk.

Thunder growls in between short pauses of lightning too far away to hear. The gentle rapping of rain against the window, however, is interrupted - as is Miles’ milk pouring - when a sharp litany of curses flow hectically from the bathroom. 

“No!” Alex barks out, causing Miles to jump and spill milk over both the mug’s surface and his wrist. “No-no-no!” was the following plead, “are you fucking kidding - fucking - fuck me!” Alex’ snapping shouts crack down harder than the storm, sloshing, spastic sounds blaring from the open bathroom door. 

_ “Alex?”  _ Miles calls, the outline of his tone carrying nervously. The lad hastily slips the milk back into the fridge, collects their teas and pads anxiously around the kitchen alcove, across the well-to-do living space and into the bathroom.

“Babe,” he pants, distantly wondering where his breath went as he stands in the doorway, clutching their burning hot tea in his hands. “What happened, what’s wrong?” 

Half-submerged in the bubbles beer-heading the tub, Alex’ soapy midriff is slanted over the rim as he frantically swipes a hand-towel over his book: his sopping wet, waterlogged, teary print copy of Frankenstien. 

“I - it slipped!” He whines, his attention fixed to the book and uncaught by Miles’ presence. The man’s wet, tangly hair drizzles water over his bowing face as he gently continues his repairing attempts, towelling off the item desperately.

Miles pushes a gush of air out, letting his shoulders drop and his heart to resume its regular pace. “I thought yeh were dead,” he breaths jokingly, shaking his head as he sets their steamy beverages over the sink counter. 

“Might as well be.” Alex mumbles miserably, crestfallen as he casts the hand-towel aside, “oh my god, I can’t believe I just...” he mutters, bartering the end of his sentence for a strangled little whine, holding the wrinkled book between his barely pruney hands, running his finger across the weeping text. 

Miles purses his lips around a denied chuckle, deciding on settling cross-legged beside Alex where the lad is sloped like a sea-lion over the tub. 

“Let’s see it.” Miles peers, prying the item from Alex’ hands for inspection.

He tilts his head sadly to the sight of the novel: heavy in his hand, bearing a couple blobs of bubbles, thick drops of water collecting at spine, spotting Miles’ trousers. 

“That’s so  _ shitty.” _ He chuckles consolingly, shaking his head as he peels the plastered pages apart to find melted paragraphs.

Alex groans, huffing out a pinched sound as he slips back under the water to his chin, pulling a hearty laugh from Miles as he catches the grumpy expression stamped over the lad.

“Don’t _ laugh, _ this is a ‘orrible day!” He whines, his shoulders sinking as his eyes squeeze up at the ceiling, groaning dramatically.

“God, yer cute when yer having a meltdown.” 

“Just,” Alex sighs, “pass me tea over.” He begins sitting up in the tub, his fingers combing his mop of dark brown over his head, the foamy bubbles orbiting the lad’s lips as he settles.

Miles nods, smiling sympathetically as he stands, leaning over to smooth the last strays of Alex’ bangs off his face. 

“You’ll learn to live with this guilt.” He snickers next to Alex’ ear, kissing a pink cheek before straightening up. 

Setting the drowned Mary Shelley novel over the sink vanity, Miles closes his hand around Alex’ mug, carefully leaning over to place the hot drink in the lad’s waiting hands.

“Thanks, love.” Alex murmurs softly, gazing down at the bubbles as he takes a steady sip, humming to what Miles imagines is the sensation of Earl Grey pooling on his tongue.

A particularly pronouncing blow of thunder has Miles’ head glancing at the door, smiling to the distant sound of Alex sighing around his tea. 

He loves this. Wrapped away with Alex, so seemingly far from the pouring chaos outside. A minute break from the rest of the world’s present plans for them.

The two had embarked on their trip to London unaware of the mounting weather, and although the stormy-front meant cancelling the majority of their plans, the pair had been more than keen on the notion of rugging up, snug with their books and laptops, sipping scotch tea admittedly far more scotch than tea, and doing as little as possible.

His attention is lured away from the song of rainfall at the sound of Alex shifting in the bath, the water rippling as he motions into a more comfortable recline, sighing once rightly leant against the spa-bath’s curve, his eyes falling closed as he awkwardly held the mug over the water. It was a skill Miles pointed Alex for. 

“Babeh,” Miles appeals to Alex’ fallen, flushed face, taking a seat on the edge of the tub, tilting his head at his boyfriend. He’s too precious when he sulks. 

“It’s fine,” Alex mopes flatly without cracking an eye open, “I ’ave a pretty good idea of ‘ow it ends anyway.”

Miles has to chuckle softly to that, nodding. “Where were yeh up to, anyway?” He prompts, letting off his spot to retrieve his own beverage from the counter, not really thinking about it when he parks himself on the bathmat, facing the door which he shuts with the help of his conveniently long legs. Miles leans less-than comfortably against the spa’s solidness, blinking up at the elegant cornice, finely framing the dip between the walls and ceiling.

“Mm…” Alex lightly drones, the drawl rumbling through the bathroom’s acoustics. “Can’t remember.” 

“Yes yeh do, c’mon, tell me.” Miles prys, taking a sip of his drink before shifting, resting his elbow over the tub’s porcelain edge, head in his hand as he takes in Alex’ glum aspects. 

The muggy air around them pulls a layer of sweat from Miles’ forehead, his sweater uncomfortably clingy. Though, truthfully, he couldn’t really be arsed to shift a muscle when caught in the current angelic, albeit downcast sight of Alex.

The boy lifts one eyelid, doubtlessly pulled by Miles’ attempts to cheer the lad up, and smiles out a sigh. “It were,” he takes a sip of his tea, straightening up in the soapy cask, “he were getting shot.” 

“Frankenstien?”

“No - the...you know, the monster.” 

“Ah,” Miles nods, taking Alex’ tea when the lad held the empty item out for him, grabbing Miles’ wrist for a chaste peck of appreciation. Alex smirks and Miles snorts, shaking his head before taking his place on the mat again, setting the empty mug next to him.

He’s watching his socks and internally cringing when he thinks of his sweating toes, nursing his unfinished beverage, when Alex more or less glides like a fantasy - its was raining, everything’s a fantasy when it rains - along the tub’s outline, perching behind Miles with his chin on the shoulder of Miles’ stuffy sweater.

“Why’d he get shot? The monster, I mean.” Miles murmurs, his cheeks rippling in a grin as Alex presses a kiss to his neck, his shoulders tensing in a repressed giggle. 

“Mmm, because he’s misunderstood, an’ all that.” He’s got that distant tone in his voice, like he’s trying to have a conversation but also trying to guess the stitch pattern of Miles’ sweater.

He does feel Alex’ eyes on the motion of his last sip. He perches the mug beside Alex’ on the salmon bathmat, rotating to face the other lad where his arms are folded over the edge.

“A character we can all relate to.” He jokes lightly, toying gently with an umber curl plastered to Alex’ forehead. 

“Poor lad, that monster.” 

Miles snorts, nodding as he tucks the stray strand behind Alex’ flushed ear, lifting his palms in surrender when the boy waves him off like a fussy teen. 

Miles grins, his eyes falling to follow the beads of water dripping from Alex’ collarbones, the skin there shiny and ruddy and begging for a collection of marks on it. 

He delays the track of a falling droplet with the tip of his index finger, a smile playing at his lips when he feels the rhythm of Alex’ heartbeat under his digit, thumping steadily below his perky chest. His sight falls to where Alex’ willowy body ends and where the thick layer of bubbles begin, met with Alex’ knowing look when his eyes roll upwards at the sound of Alex’ question-marked hum. 

The boy laughs as Miles does, his arms tucking behind the tub’s edge, his fingers curled around the lip. 

“You look tiny in that thing.” Miles muses, eyeing the pearly foam lapping around Alex’ naked slouch before undoing from the sight, standing as he makes a grab for the hem of his sweater.

The slighter man’s eyes light up, “are you? What, really?” he beams, sliding to the other side of the tub to watch merrily as Miles undresses.

“It joost seems ridiculous for me to leave yeh alone, considering the tragic events that ‘ave taken place.” He grins, pulling his top layers off, exposing his bare chest. 

“Fuck  _ off.”  _ Alex giggles, the bathwater lapping up the tub as he pulls his knees to his chest, making room, the oceanic size of the spa notwithstanding.

Miles casts his sweater and skivvy to the floor, snickering to Alex’ vivacy as he pinches out the button of his slacks, pulling down the zipper and then the item itself, snagging his boxers along with it.

“You’re  _ hard?”  _ Alex stares disbelievingly, nodding approvingly as Miles steps out of his pants, attempting to chew away a grin that threatens to split his face. 

Miles gives a half-shrug which makes him look seventeen, peeling off his socks before setting his thin chain to the countertop. “Forgive me if the prospect of taking a bath with me boyfriend excites me.” Miles smirks, slipping off a ring last minute before taking a keen step into the water, sighing to the temperature. “Fuck…”

Alex lowers his knees and holds out his hand, easing Miles into the tub like the old married couple they are at heart. 

Once fully seated, Miles hums dramatically, finding a corner of the tub to recline in, his eyes falling shut lazily. 

“Fuck me,” he breathes coolly, “this is -  _ oof,  _ jeez, hello there,” he wheezes out as he feels Alex’ weight come down on his belly, opening his eyes to Alex’ naked, blushy midriff.

“Sorreh - wait,  _ there  _ we go.” The slighter lad amends, shuffling back to place himself in a lower, less compromising position. “Good?”

“Mhmm.” Miles hums, his hands slotting around Alex’ waist, caressing upwards, feeling the soap-slick skin under his fingers, “perfect.” 

A light uprising of thunder groans against the bathroom windows, Miles turns to find a dark grey filling the glass frames, the green and red led-lighting dull and unlit. His attention floats swiftly back to Alex when the boy’s hands palm over his chest, smoothing over his dampened skin. 

Alex’ weight feels heavenly on him, snug and so right where he perches over Miles’ body. It has him grinning up at the boy, reaching to tuck his ever-wayward curls behind a flushed ear. Alex shakes his head softly, spilling more strands, smiling down at where his fingers stretch over Miles’ chest, his fingertips brushing along the lad’s collarbone. 

“Love yeh.” Alex utters, a smirk curling along his lips as his hands upscale, flitting to the base of Miles’ neck. “Love this.”

Miles’ mouth pursues the mimic of a smile, the carousel of needling concern in his head denying the beam. 

“Me too.” He smiles on, wondering how his tone came so strained in light of Alex’ weightless touch. His hands take up Alex’ roseate cheeks in a gentle grip, his thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. “How...I mean, how’s - how are you feeling?”

Alex’ eyes fall shut in a warm smile, “I’m fine, love.” He says, his hands floating to draw blunt nails over Miles’ shaven skull. “I swear I am.” Alex’ eyes smile along with the rest of his face to the shawn surface.

“Yeh were countin’ the days, weren’t yeh?.” Miles’ hands fall to the jut of Alex’ hips, fingertips sinking softly into the flesh. “Till I shaved it all off again.” 

Alex’ lips quirk as he shrugs off the theory. He pokes out his chin in a teasing defiance, swiftly interrupting his front with a wheezing laugh, chortling as Miles’ fingers come curling and poking under his ribs, effectively tickling his act away.

Alex lets out a bell-like giggle, hands pulling back reflexively, his body surging and squirming away from Miles’ administrations, “s-stop, g-god, I’ll pee!” 

“Say the magic word, laa.” Miles snorts out his own laugh beneath Alex, tickling under his heaving ribs.

Alex hiccups and chokes on his tongue, “Puh-please - I love you, I love you, Jesus-fuck! Lemme  _ go.”  _

Alex coughs his way down from the tittering high when Miles relents, his fingers retracting as Alex sucks down sharp breathes, his cheeks ruddy and dimply, “you bastard.” he breathes, his chest stuttering back to normality, hands curled up into his body protectively.

Miles merely snickers giddily under Alex, his frisky hands having lowered to curl around Alex’ submerged thighs. He opens his legs a mite wider, letting Alex situate himself lower, his dick having softened in the midst of his and Alex’ silly cavorting. 

Alex takes the hint, or perhaps creates his own; sliding away from Miles, the water floundering gently around the boy as he loosens himself entirely, curling up into a ball under the water. 

He arches his neck back to let the soapy water swallow his umber tuft to the scalp, eyes falling shut. Miles imagines the weight of Alex’ water-soaked hair straining his delicate neck, deftly watching as the lad lifts his head, showing off the gallery of femininity and juxtaposed brawn framing his profile, his features grabbing Miles’ breath as they always had. 

He blinks the lusting spell away, and falls into a headier one when Alex’ movements register; the boy stands from the cooling water, blossoming nakedly from the soapy basson to stretch his arms behind his head, squeezing the water droplets from his soaked hair. 

“Fuck me…” Miles hears himself mutter through his parted lips, his eyes still unwilling to blink after all these years. 

The prod of Alex’ snort pulls his gaze to the man’s face - rosy and amused by Miles’ regard. “No, you.” Alex playfully replies to Miles’ growled outburst, a winning, yet genuine smile pulling his lips upwards, his eyes half-lidded and soft.

“Where…” Miles chews his bottom lip, “I joost got in, where’re ye goin?” His eyes appoint themselves to Alex’ arse as the watches the boy step out of the tub, toeing his way around Miles’ clothes and their mugs to snag a towel from the wooden shelf. 

“M’all pruney, love.” Alex insists simply, wrapping the creamy towel around his hips before pushing up to study his reflection in the mirror, the item hung modernly above the sink. 

Miles’ attention follows as Alex picks up his sodden book, sighs hopelessly and slides it across the countertop, resuming his reflection as he runs his fingers along his sully under-eyes.

Miles returns his notice to his warming bones and his missing Alex’ contact as he splays his limbs out under the water, soaking up the last of the water’s comfort.

His eyes fall shut in a heavy-lunged breath, listening absently to the sound of Alex shuffling through draws, opening and closing compartments, Miles letting every movement his boyfriend made ripple through his mind as he marinates silently in the soapy bathwater.

A shifting motion in the water has his eyes lifting to full aperture, brows pinching down to where Alex’ hand reaches under the flat bubbles to pull the bath-plug free. 

Miles hauls himself to a vertical position with a grunt, slouch as he does. “Aly,” he groans, watching as the water enveloping him slowly shrinks. 

His grieving eyes lift, and his train of woeful thought is derailed the moment he reads the demure look drawing Alex’ face. 

“M’sorreh, Daddy.” the lad drawls, his shoulders pushing forwards as he crosses his arms shrinkingly, putting on the barest of pouts where he perches at the opposite end of the tub.

Miles catches on soon enough, his thin lips curl indulgently when he gives, “now why’d yeh do tha’, babeh boy?” Miles asks in a register low enough to send Alex’ eyes away, his sight stitching to the bathmat and Miles’ shedded layers. 

“There are other ways of getting Daddy’s attention, hm?” 

Alex turns to look at him with that fucking look. This honed, deer-in-the-headlights evasivness that has Miles’ dick chubbing up between his legs, stirring like this is the first fuck he has and will ever have. The bathwater reveals as much as it’s emptied. 

He lifts his eyes expectantly, gazing at his boyfriend where he sits diffidently at the other end of the tub, silently plotting his next self-effacing move. 

It comes in the form of a soft nod, Alex’ bottom lip jutting out slightly as his lust-thickened eyes fall to where Miles’ cock lies against his belly, not fully hard but rousing up by minute.

Miles nods along with Alex, not missing the hitch to the boy’s breath when Miles wraps a hand around himself, pulling at the skin of his dick in slow, lazy motions that has Alex’ fingers curling into fists in his lap. 

Miles lets his cock go, the firm length audibly slapping back to his trimmed stomach and Alex  _ whines, _ the high blush on his cheeks suggesting Alex’ own reaction to his needy sound. Miles is far too busy stashing the coo away to bother with calling it out.

“This what’s on yer mind, baby?” Miles encourages with the curious tilt of his head, one leg falling open wider as he brushes his fingers up and down his curved, rosy predicament.

Alex blinks up to Miles’ face with wide eyes - as if just recalling the body attached to Miles’ dick - finding the smug expression pulled over the seated lad’s face. 

Miles knows it’s all cat and mouse from here on out, and as always, is more than willing to oblige.

“Y-yes.” Alex admits on exhale, “yes, daddeh.” 

Miles’ hand tightens around his cock. The sheer drug of having a man like Alex at his mercy - or the seamless imitation of it - tightens like twine in his gut, pulling his domineering, arrogant charade into perfect placement. 

“Well then,” Miles breezes out, removing his hand from his reddened dick. “Here’s wot yer gonna do for Daddy. Yer going to wait for me, on our bed, that pretty arse of yours ready for my cock.” His voice has adopted that gravelly effect in his throat, and he relishes the way his boyfriend’s shoulders stutter through a shiver. 

Alex nods once again, eager albeit deftly as he stands from the bathtub’s edge.

“Lube in the top draw, baby.”

Alex swallows, nodding before he shuffles over to the set of draws under built under the vanity, pulling out an unopened bottle of lube.

“Good boy.” Miles praises, tracking Alex’ exquisite motions as the lad makes for the door, his posture pulled taut. 

Catching the sight of Alex on exit, Miles makes a rough sound in his throat, pulling the boy to a halt. “Yeh won’t be needing that, laa.” Miles says, nodding to the towel hugging Alex’ waist. 

He marvels at the tiny protest between Alex’ shoulders as the lad slips into his role; his posture softening with an exhale as his fingers mutely unfasten the cotton towel. 

Miles smirks triumphantly at the sight of Alex’ naked body. The way his shoulders slope into his perfect collarbones, his chest plump and full and fed, his blushing cock standing at full salute to their fucking theatricss. The items uncovered lay like death at his feet, his eyes following Miles’ study over his shoulder.

“Much better,” Miles approves, managing to make the words sound approving rather than awestruck. “Now off yeh go.” He says to Alex’ ass, his sight darting up to wink at Alex’ asking expression.

A smile messes with Alex’ unassuming facade. He purses his lips, willing it away, nodding before slipping out of the door silently. 

After a moment of tracing Alex’ footsteps down the hall, Miles pushes out a steam of air, climbing out of the tub to snag his own towel. 

Pushing shut the draw Alex had left open, Miles wraps his towel around his hips, his sight attaching to the countertop. The lad places his chain and ring in a safe place over the vanity, adding Alex’ out-cast items of jewelry to his, pausing when his eyes find the soaked copy of Frankenstien. 

He picks it up and turns it over, as if a closer inspection might set it right.

Miles shakes his head with a light chuckle, making a mental note to find a replacement the moment the storm passed. At the thought, Miles turns his gaze to the window: it was clearing up.

He huffs smilingly, and with a clear eagerness to his step, crossed the smoggy bathroom tile, dropping his towel by Alex' as he too makes for the bedroom. 

+

Alex hisses as Miles’ hand wraps tightly around his wrist, slender fingers curling into the flesh just above his tattoo, the pressure rising red impressions to the skin’s surface. 

He bites into his kiss-swollen bottom lip, letting the pink, spit-wet petal fall free in an open-mouthed moan. 

“I -  _ oh... _ gonna fookin’...come again’,” he squeaks out in between thrusts, one semitone from hysterically, his voice strained under the choke of Miles’ hand where it collars his neck.

His panting frame - bouncing feverishly up and down and up and down the mattress - takes one last collective, shuddering inhale before his cock-hungry shape of a body clenches desperately around Miles, his soul gasping as Alex comes for the second time that evening, shivers of ecstacy darting through him. 

The wet weight of his come ponding on his pelvis is distantly noted, his ears blocked by Miles’ delighted moans as he joins Alex in euphoria.

Alex sobs out as he feels Miles’ cock dance over the bundle of nerves tucked inside him, the overstimulation making him squirm as Miles’ fingers tighten around Alex’ neck and wrist, fucking into him until theres nothing left to release. 

“Fuck, Alex, fuck, baby,” Miles groans in a pinched tone, his flexing wrist loosening around Alex’ neck, taking up his other wrist, pinning Alex’ arms by his head in a tribute-reselmbling act.

Alex sucks in as much air as his straining lungs can steal, kissing Miles passionately in between breaths, moaning hoarsely when Miles’ dick shifts in him as they do. 

“I’ll replace it in the morning,” the lad pants, licking his lips over the skin of Alex’ shoulder.

Alex blinks his sex-drunk haze away, his brows dipping, “w-what?” he breathes into Miles’ shaven head, “replace what?”

“The book.”

_ “Miles,”  _ he groans, his feet squeezed around the small of Miles’ back, “it’s fine, Christ.” 

What was it with Miles and acts of chivalrisim post-orgasim? It was like he held this loving knot of balled concerns in his mind up until he came, the nudge of his climax prompting said matters to untwine; apologies given which Alex had forgotten he was owed, forfeited points they’d discussed exhaled happily. 

He knew it to be the giving nature of Miles - the protector - his inherent desire to have nothing unsettled between them when they were so close.    


“It’s joost, yeh’ve been reading it all week and-”

Alex pulls off to catch Miles’ eyes with his, “yeh just came inside me, can we like, focus on that for a bit?” 

“Right - right, sorreh,” he kisses Alex’ parted mouth, tonguing the sweat away as Alex hums into it, licking past Miles’ lips and into velvety warmth tenderly. 

When they part - Miles rolling off of Alex, come spilling down Alex’ thigh - the storm has passed, leaving behind it the light whur of rain and the darkness of nightfall. 

The combination of the twin lamps shooting warm light over them, along with the hotel’s lavender-scented pillow cases make it near impossible for Alex to pull himself out of bed, into their ensuite and under the showerhead.

When he reappears, he’s greeted by the familiar sight of Miles’ lanky, butt-naked body: draped over the mattress like a thrown fantasy, his sleeping face squished into the pillow in a divine smoosh.

Alex is slipping into his night shorts and some pearly, silk top Miles had gifted him during their last Paris trip, washed hair tickling his neck and shoulders, when he feels hands grabbing at his thighs, pulling him to take a place over the blankets. Miles’ seemingly ceaseless arms circle his waist, the lad’s face pressing into his side. 

Alex melts onto his back with a soft chuckle, gently dragging his nails over Miles’ coarse head as he notes the snuffed light on the lad’s side of the bed. Alex turns his head on the pillow to squint at his own nightstand, reaching his arm over to switch the bulb off. 

He feels Miles’ approving sigh on his waist where his top rides up, Miles’ hand spread over Alex’ belly. 

“Love yeh.” Alex yawns, his hand falling still on Miles’ shoulder. 

“I love yeh too, laa.”

And they fall asleep, like that, in their hotel room under the rain. 

+

**Author's Note:**

> Eh, hope you enjoyed heh.


End file.
